Something To Remind You
by in-silent-seas
Summary: Takes place after Swan Song. Sam finds his own way out of the cage.
1. Chapter 1

**_AN: _**_Hey guys. This is something I've been thinking about doing ever since I wrote the Arrivals stories. I thought that the original fic had moved way too fast, and so I got the idea into my head to rewrite it. Or to revamp it. Not sure which this is considering I went in an entirely different direction with this. Needless to say none of the original Arrivals!Verse exists now. I deleted it all because I felt I could do so much more with it. Either way, I hope y'all enjoy! Please leave me some feedback if you liked it :D Or even if you didn't! Reviews are love, reviews are life._

_**Disclaimer:** Not mine, I promise._

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><p>He felt it suddenly. Like a violent jerk to his very core.<p>

It was a pull, and it was dragging him towards the edges of the cage.

Lucifer's howl of anger blew his eardrums, and he could feel the blood trickling down the sides of his face, but he ignored it, trying to make sense of the fact that he wasn't being viciously cut open anymore, and that Lucifer's cold grasp was no longer around his throat. Instead he was being hauled towards a light.

Not like Lucifer's light. It wasn't nearly as...frightening.

This light felt warm, and safe.

For a terrifying second Sam wondered if he was finally getting an end to the centuries of torture he'd endured. But that wouldn't make sense, considering there was no way out of the cage. No way out.

But just as if to prove him wrong, he was suddenly on the other side of the cage.

He could feel the vibrations of Lucifer angrily throwing himself against the walls, screaming something that Sam couldn't hear as he glanced back. But a realization hit him then. He was out of the cage. Still in Hell, but...but out of the cage. Away from Lucifer. The other demons that surrounded him didn't even phase him now as he crawled towards something.

He didn't know if it was the exit, but it was away from the cage.

It was towards something different.

He gripped the grimy ground, pulling himself forward a few more feet before feeling the fight leave him. It occurred to him that he could hear again, and he glanced around, finding himself in a less populated area. Closing his eyes, he lay his head against the ground, thinking for the first time in probably a decade of Dean.

Dean...a figure that he couldn't remember.

A faceless person in his mind, but somehow the only thing that had managed to spur him through the endless hours of torture that Lucifer had inflicted on him. He liked to think that at some point he and Dean had been close. Close enough to have such a strong relationship. But there was nothing left for him now. It had been burned away by Lucifer's light.

There was just him. Sam. And even that was beginning to grow fuzzy.

Curling in on himself, he prayed to whatever beings were out there to let him die. To let him finally rest and exist no longer. For at least, with that, he wouldn't have to get up and pull himself through the dirt and grime aimlessly. He felt himself slipping away and with a peaceful sigh, he fell into oblivion.

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><p>When he came to next (and he found he was surprised he even woke up), Sam found himself laying in a field. Blinking, he made an attempt to sit up, but his limbs wouldn't respond. His arms and legs felt like they were being weighed down by anvils. Groaning, he didn't know how, but he managed to turn himself onto his back. It was then that he realized that he was barely clothed.<p>

Was he...was he out?

Before he could answer this himself, a figure appeared in his line of sight, a dark shadow against the bright sunlight.

"Whoa there, buddy. You might not wanna try movin' just yet." The formless black space spoke.

He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was so dry and unused to talking, that only a pained squeak escaped. Furrowing his brow, he tried again, and managed a hoarse, "Where...?"

"You're just outside'a Sioux Falls, South Dakota, son. Any idea how you ended up out here?"

The name felt like it should have meant something to him, but Sam couldn't quite place it. Like a serious case of déjà vu except he could barely understand the concept. The stranger watched him curiously, a hand on his hip. Sam stared back for a moment before making the decision to try to sit up.

"Hold on there, kid. Lemme help you with that. EMT'll be here soon anyways."

A hand braced his back, treading carefully over the heavily scarred skin.

Sam took a moment to glance down at himself, wondering just how almost ninety percent of him had become long, jagged scars. They covered his arms, legs, torso, and judging by the questioning glance the man was giving him, probably his back too. He vaguely remembered something about a cage -

The stranger was shocked to see the kid suddenly go still, eyes glossing over as if he were remembering something bad. He removed his hand, wondering if that had done it. His brother had been a veteran in the army, and had come back with something the doctors had called PTSD. Maybe this guy was like that.

But just like that, the kid was back.

"S..sorry...spaced out." Sam murmured, shaking away memories of Lucifer cutting each and every one of these marks into him. They were vivid, and terrifying, and dully Sam wondered how he was even up and about right now (if one could even considering sitting up as being "up and about").

"It's okay, kid. You remember how you ended up here?"

Glancing up at the man, who Sam realized during his episode must of backed up and stood straight again. He was older, definitely in his sixties, and any attempt at yelling at him for referring to Sam as "kid" died on his lips. He shook his head lightly, glancing back towards himself, "Musta sleep-walked, or something." He lied easily.

Who had he been, before this, to have lying come so easily to him?

"Don't think I've ever seen you around these parts. What's your name?"

Sam stared back up at the stranger, "Sam." He said, but something else came ot his mind. A second name, "Sam Winchester." He had no idea where the last part came from, but it felt like it fit there. Like it belonged after Sam. Maybe it was his last name? His fingers itched for a keyboard and a computer, wishing that he could look the name up.

"Well Sam, you're definitely quick ta come 'round." The man nodded towards him, "You got your color back." With a glanced towards where Sam guessed the ambulance was supposed to be coming from, the man sighed and sat himself down on the grass, "The name's Francis." The grey-haired man, Francis, said with a small grin, "I own the orchard you're currently sitting in."

Sam eyed the trees that surrounded the small clearing they sat in, realizing that apples hung from the gently swaying branches. The movement mesmerized him for a moment, before he suddenly heard a loud noise. Nearly jumping out of his skin, his gaze flew to the single strip of road that led out of the clearing, seeing a large white ambulance speeding over the gravel.

"That'd be the paramedics. Ya seemed okay, kid, but I just wanted to be sure."

Sam sat stock still as a blanket was thrown around his shoulders, and an unfamiliar man knelt in front of him, shining a bright light into his wide eyes.

"Hey there. My names Mike. I'm a paramedic. Care to tell me your name?"

Suddenly uncomfortable, Sam murmured, "Sam."

A blood pressure cuff slid up his arm before Mike spoke again, "Got a last name, Sam?"

As the cuff tightened around his arm, Sam suddenly felt like a spooked rabbit. He needed to get out of here, to run, to fight. He had to physically resist the urge to uppercut the paramedic and sprint deeper into the trees. The man must have heard his breathing pick up, though, because he was suddenly calling to the other medic that was leaning on the ambulance talking to Francis.

"Hey Terry, get over here. Think he's having a panic attack."

A woman with long blonde hair was suddenly in his quickly narrowing field of vision, a kind smile on her face.

"Heya there, Sammy. It's alright." She said calmly, evenly, "I want you to breathe with me, okay? Count to ten as you breathe in through your nose, and to fifteen as you breathe out through your mouth. Got it?" When she received a shaky nod, she smiled brighter, "Okay, good."

Slowly, with her help, Sam could feel himself calming down, but he still couldn't get rid of the feeling that he needed to get out of here.

"Do you have a history of anxiety, Sam?" Terry asked gently as she removed the cuff from his arm.

Sam nodded slowly, knowing that he was lying, but some part of him thought it was necessary, "Y-yeah...just didn't take my meds today." He gave her a small smile as he felt his breathing finally slowing down to normal again.

"Can you tell me how you ended up out here, Sam?" Mike asked, kneeling next to Terry again.

"Probably sleep-walked. Used to have a problem with it a lot, but with the meds it stopped."

Nodding, Mike straightened, "Well, it seems like Sam here is okay. There's no sign of concussion, and his bp and heart rate are all normal. Other than the massive amount of scarring, he seems perfectly healthy." The paramedic stated, looking towards Francis, "Just be sure that you take your medication from now on, Sam. And for God sakes, Frank, can you at least give the boy your extra set of work clothes?"

Francis gave a chuckle before nodding, "Yeah, I think I got it from here. Thanks for coming out here, fellas. Sorry that it wasn't something more serious."

"Sure thing, Francis. And Sam," Terry said, looking towards the man who was now standing with the blanket wrapped around his waist, "If your sleep walking problem persists, be sure to tell your doctor. It could be a sign that your medication isn't strong enough." With that, she headed back into the ambulance, Mike soon following suit.

As he watched them drive away, he could hear Francis shuffling around in the truck that Sam was just now noticing was there. He started violently as a pair of dark pants were shoved into his hands, as well as a plaid button up t-shirt. Thanking the man, Sam quickly brushed what were left of his clothes off of himself and slipped the pants on. Standing, he made quick work of buttoning up the shirt, feeling as though he'd done this many times before.

"You want a ride back into town, or...?" Francis questioned, gesturing towards his truck, "I didn't see no other vehicles out here, so I imagine you probably walked."

Sam nodded, flashing a small smile, "Yeah...thanks for everything."

The older man said nothing but silently got into the truck and waited for Sam to get in.

"I couldn't just leave you lyin' there." The man said as they began driving down the bumpy dirt road, "Just didn't seem right. Plus I get a lot of kids comin' in here late at night, some of 'em get lost. Wanted to make sure you weren't one of them, and that your parents weren't missin' you." Francis cast a curious glance over to him as he navigated the narrow path, "How old are ya anyway, kid?"

Sam was thrown by the sudden question, having just been silently listening to the man drone on as he drove. How old _was _he? He had no memories of before the cage, and before when he woke up in the field...it felt like he was in his twenties, but he couldn't be sure because time was funny in the cage, in Hell.

"I..honestly don't know." He murmured, looking through the windshield with a frown on his face, "I guess I lost track."

He received a strange look in response, but Francis said nothing.

As they neared Sioux Falls, Sam saw something in the distance that made something in his addled brain twitch. Narrowing his gaze, he realized the sign read "Singer Salvage Yard". Blinking as random spots danced across his vision, Sam motioned towards that junkyard.

"Can you drop me there?"

Francis glanced at him, "Ya got something to do with ol' Bobby?"

Sam thought the name sounded familiar.

"Yeah." He murmured, lost in thought.

As the truck rolled to a stop, Sam slowly opened the door, feeling oddly nostalgic as he stared at the expansive scrap yard. He shut the door behind him, wincing as the gravel cut into his bare feet. He could hear Francis talking to him, but wasn't quite sure what he was saying as his vision was filling with dark spots.

He turned and waved to the man, "Thanks for all your help, Francis."

"You just be careful, kid. I live just inside town if ya need anything else."

And like that, the man was gone.

Sam's gaze was left to travel back towards the salvage yard. Singer's...So maybe he was looking for a Bobby Singer? The name sent another wave of the curious dark spots dancing across his eyesight. He briefly wondered what those were for (maybe he was remembering something?) but couldn't put his attention on it as someone walked out of the house that sat in the middle of the yard.

Their gazes met, and the stranger's eyes went wide.

"Sammy?"

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**_AN: _**_Hey guys! I hadn't planned on posting this until this weekend, but the response I got on the first chapter was mind-blowing! I'd like to thank all of the people who followed! Also a shout out to Air Guitar Pixie, an anonymous guest, and Souless666 for reviewing! Thanks so much guys, you're awesome. This chapter is from Dean's perspective, but I hope you enjoy it none the less! As always, reviews are love, reviews are life c: _

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Supernatural, dude(s)._

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><p>Dean had done what Sam asked.<p>

Well, as best as he could, anyways.

He'd managed to stay with Lisa. Managed to stay sober. Barely got away from hunting. But he'd done it. And anyone who said otherwise could politely shut the hell up. He'd gotten a job as a mechanic, drove Ben to school every morning, and worked on the Impala in his spare time. Pretty much the apple pie life that Sam had him promise to live.

However, it was a phone call that got his attention.

He'd stayed in touch with Bobby over the months. Hadn't heard from Cas in a long time, but he'd just assumed the angel was busy rebuilding Heaven. Either way, Dean had stayed in contact as well as he could with the older man. So when he got the call in the middle of July (a year and seven months after Sammy had fallen into the hole) from Bobby about strange activity going on in his neighborhood, Dean couldn't help but call back.

It went something like this.

Dean stood in the backyard, the grill open and a few burgers sizzling over the hot coals. He flipped one and took a sip of his water, wishing that it was something alcoholic. But he'd made a promise with Lisa that he'd stop the constant drinking, agreeing that it wasn't good for Ben.

Said kid was running around in the backyard with the dog that Lisa had reluctantly let him get. Ben took good care of it too, Dean surmised. At least it looked that way. The food bowl was always full, Ben was always taking the dog for walks, and none of the furniture had been destroyed. Yet.

The back door to the house slammed shut and Dean looked up from the food, seeing Lisa hurrying towards him, the cordless phone in hand.

"What's wrong?" He asked, setting down the spatula he'd been using.

She shook her head, and handed him the phone.

He took it, watching her walk away before he put it up to his ear, "Who is this?"

"That's no way to talk to me, ya idjit." Bobby's gruff voice came through the speaker.

Dean felt himself smiling a little, before thinking back to the look on Lisa's face, "What happened, Bobby?"

There was a beat of silence on the other end, before Dean heard the man sigh, "You know I wouldn't bring this kind of stuff to you unless it was important, right?" Not waiting for a response, Bobby continued, "There's been some strange activity in this area lately. Now I know that doesn't sound like much, but there's been people miraculously recovering from illnesses. Lightning storms that don't make sense. Hell, just the other night Francis, the guy who owns the orchard just outsida town that you and Sam used to play in said he saw some sort of strange light show in his fields. I took some EMF readings and they were off the charts."

Dean's brow furrowed further and further as he listened, and when Bobby was finally done speaking, he paused a moment to collect his thoughts, "So what are you trying to say, Bobby? I mean we got angel signs, but the lightning storms are usually demonic right? And what about that light show?" He glanced around the backyard, seeing Lisa sitting on one of the lawn chairs. Sighing, he took his drink and moved inside.

"I dunno, Dean. But the energy in that field, it was like something was trying to break through."

"Break through? The hell does that mean? You're not making much sense, Bobby." Dean commented, eyes narrowed.

"I mean that it felt like a gate to Hell was trying to open, okay? That's why I figured I should call you because it might have something to do with Sam. It's a long shot, but it's worth looking into at least, right?" Bobby sounded hopeful, and Dean could almost see him there surrounded by his books.

Dean placed his drink on the counter and felt his frown deepen.

"You think the light show was Hell trying to open?" He questioned, now leaning against said counter, "Have you seen any demons around, or anything? And what about these 'miraculous healings'? Demons don't usually do that. I'm not even sure if they _can _do that."

"I don't know, Dean. That's why I wanted you to come out here and look at this. I know you don't want anything to do with the hunting world anymore, but at least come here and look. If it turns out to be nothing, or something supernatural that doesn't have to do with your brother, you can go on home and I'll get someone on it." Bobby said, almost pleadingly. Dean raised an eyebrow, knowing that Bobby never sounded like that.

"I guess, yeah. I'll be there in a day, Bobby. Just...be careful until I get there, okay?"

With that, Dean hung up and set the phone down on the counter.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Lisa said from behind him.

He turned to face her, having not heard her walk in, "...I am. I'll come back - "

She shook her head, "If it's as important as that conversation sounded, I don't think you will be. But...if you need a place, we're here Dean. You will always have a home here with us." She said, a pained smile on her face.

Dean moved closer, pulling her to his chest, "Thank you."

After a long goodbye to Ben, Dean quickly packed up his meager belongings and hopped into the Impala. He pulled the keys out of his pocket, and glanced at the passenger's seat. Empty. He grimaced, trying not imagine what would happen if this didn't turn out the way he was hoping it would.

"Alright baby, let's go."

And he was off.

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><p>After thirteen hours of straight driving (with a few potty breaks and gas stops along the way), Dean arrived at Bobby's. He pulled the Impala up along the side of Bobby's expansive house, shutting off the engine and sitting still for a moment. He wondered briefly if this was worth it, because God knew this was going to turn out to not be about Sammy.<p>

He couldn't handle that.

It was hard enough to promise Sam that he wouldn't go looking for him, but to have the hope that he might be coming back crushed was something Dean wasn't sure he wanted. He'd spent the first few months after Sam's...disappearance (he couldn't bear to call it death) wallowing in his own self-pity. He drank too much, slept too much, and watched too much crap TV.

And now, a year and a half later, here he was, looking for Sam just like he promised he wouldn't do.

Heaving a sigh, Dean forced himself to get out of the car and go into Bobby's, grabbing his duffel on the way out.

As he reached with a hand to knock on the door, it suddenly flung open.

"Thought I heard you pull up." Bobby said as he stepped aside to allow Dean in.

Dean nodded, groaning tiredly as he sat down on a couch, "So where's this orchard?"

Bobby moved over to his desk, where, as Dean had imagined, there lay books and papers scattered about. He dug through them for a moment, before digging out what appeared to be a map. He came back over to Dean and set the paper down on the coffee table. There was a huge area of forest circled on it.

"This area here is the orchard. That dot there," He gestured towards a dot in the exact center of the trees, "is where the anomaly's have occurred. Ironically enough its only a small area. A random clearing in the middle of the orchard."

"And you're sure this isn't something that is naturally occurring?"

Bobby nodded, "There are no records of this happening before now."

Slowly rising from the couch, Dean leaned down the grab the duffel he'd dropped when he'd sat down, "Alright. Well I'll take this upstairs and then we'll go, okay?" Not waiting for a response, Dean headed towards the stairs. He made his way up and to the guest room, where he usually slept when over at Bobby's. The other spare room...the one that Sam slept in sat directly across from his.

Pushing open the door, he noted that the room was exactly as he'd left it.

He threw the bag down onto the bed and then went back downstairs.

Best to hurry this along and get it over with.

"I'll go get the Impala and bring it around." Dean stated waving towards Bobby and heading outside.

As soon as he shut the door behind him, he turned and headed down the stairs. When he glanced up, his gaze saw something that he'd thought he'd never see again. A familiar figure was standing hesitantly at the entrance to Bobby's scrap yard, staring confusedly around as if he didn't know where he was, or who he was looking for.

Dean, however, knew exactly who this person was.

He couldn't hold back the quiet, "Sammy?" That escaped his lips at the sight of his brother.

He heard the door open behind him, and Bobby must've seen what he saw because he heard the gasp that escaped the elder hunter's lips. But he ignored that in favor of slowly moving forwards, towards the sibling that he'd thought to be trapped in a cage with Lucifer. The very thought made him pause, and he reached into his jacket for the flask of holy water that he always kept there (out of habit. Not because he thought he was going to run into something). He didn't splash Sam just yet, but he couldn't take any chances.

He murmured again this time, realizing he'd gotten no response from Sam, "Sammy? Is that really you?"

His brother's glazed over gaze met his, and he barely heard the muttered reply. What he did hear, though, chilled him to his very core.

"Do you know who I am?"

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**_AN: _**_So so so so sorry about the wait! I got really sick, and was bedridden for a few days, but I'm all better now! :D That and work has been soooo busy. But that's enough excuses from me. xD The response I got for the last chapter was amazing, once again! You guys are freaking awesome! Shout out(s) to, **CeCe Away**, **Souless666**, **cammid**, **Air Guitar Pixie**, **slyvia37**, **Con man 1**, and **icedragonfirebird** for reviewing! Enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Supernatural, but if I did..._

_P.S. I apologize for the third cliffhanger in a row. No promises that that will stop, however. *evil laugh*_

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><p>Dean blinked, not fully understanding what Sam had said.<p>

"W-what?"

Sam stared at this stranger, wondering why he'd known his name. That had been why he asked, of course. To see if this man knew who he was before the cage. If there even was anything before the cage. Fire burned at the edges of his vision and Sam forced it away, trying to focus on the present. On the fact that this _wasn't _the cage.

"Do you...did you know me? Before?" He asked again, struggling to get his point across.

He didn't know why but the sight of this stranger made his mind fill with images of the torture that Lucifer had inflicted on him. Centuries worth of memories that he'd managed to somehow ignore up until now broke forth, flooding his mind with hideous replays of blood and light and screams. Screams of Dean.

Something hit Sam then. He met the eyes of this man, noticing that he'd come closer in the time that Sam had been trapped in his thoughts.

"Sammy? What do you mean before?"

Sam ignored him, trying to get his mouth to form the words that he longed to ask. But the fire and the noise became too much. He could see darkness swimming at the edges of his vision, and he futilely tried to push it away, tried to fight it. Reaching out a hand, he felt his consciousness slipping away, hearing someone screaming his name as his vision faded to black.

"Sam?!" Dean yelled, dashing forward to catch his brother before he hit the ground, the flask falling from his grip as he moved.

"Are you even sure that's Sam, Dean?" Bobby asked as he approached the two.

Dean glared at the older man, "He may not remember who we are, but this is definitely Sam." He cradled Sam's head in his hands for a moment, reveling in the fact that he'd come here expecting this to turn out to be nothing, and yet here his brother was. With a grunt, he shifted so his grip was under Sam's arms, "Here, grab his legs."

Bobby ignored him for a moment, grabbing the flask that Dean had dropped and unscrewed it. He splashed the contents onto Sam, and when nothing happened, put the bottle in his pocket. He knelt and gripped Sam's legs, sighing, "I guess I'll take comfort in the fact that we aren't bringing a demon into my home."

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><p>Sam blinked, feeling like he'd been shot with a taser.<p>

He couldn't see anything. If he was in some sort of room, then there must have been no light because it was pitch black. He groped blindly, trying to find some sort of wall or surface that he could use to pull himself to his feet. He finally found what felt like an end table, and gripped the edge.

Only to have his hand slip on something slick and wet.

Stupidly he put his hand in front of his face, trying to see what the substance had been. Sam quickly realized, however that he couldn't see a thing. He tried to murmur to himself, to make a comment aloud about how dumb he'd been, but to his shock he couldn't even utter a word.

What the hell was this? Where the hell was he?

Reaching for the table again, he managed to get a good grip on it and pull himself to his feet. Not that it helped any. There was still nothing but darkness all around him. Just as he was about to take a step, a very faint humming noise filled his ears. It was then that he noticed that a light had began to form in the corner of the room.

Strangely enough it didn't illuminate any of the other objects around it.

It was just there. Like a white circle on a black background.

Hesitantly, Sam moved towards it, wondering if he was hallucinating. Hell, _all _of this was probably some weird vision. But he hadn't had a vision since - he stopped moving, freezing completely. Visions? He used to have visions? But he hadn't remembered anything about before. Before the cage. Was it all somehow coming back to him?

He shook his head, ungodly long hair flying into his face.

He pushed himself forwards, ignoring the questions he had right now. There was no one to give him answers, only the light.

Sam paused. He stood directly in front of the glowing object now, but there was a strange noise under all the humming. Like someone was screaming something. The yelling was unintelligible, but he could make out something that sounded like his name. He whirled around, facing the darkness that he'd left behind.

Except it wasn't dark anymore.

It was fire, and blood, and death. And that horrifying, terrifying light. Lucifer's light. The archangel was reaching for him, screeching horribly, a pitch almost high enough that Sam couldn't hear it. His hands flew to his ears, feeling blood rushing down the sides of his face as he did. There was someone crying. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was him. He was crying. Sobbing, actually.

"Stop! Make it stop!" He shouted, feeling his vocal cords tearing as he screamed.

He fell to his knees, eyes closed as tears rolled down his face.

He didn't notice as the light began to envelop him from behind. Didn't notice as the not-Lucifer suddenly dispersed. Didn't notice as silence suddenly fell over the room. No, Sam didn't notice a thing, for he was suddenly feeling very tired. And like that, everything suddenly stopped.

The only remnants of what had happened being a now sleeping Sam, and the warm light that now covered him.

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><p>"He's definitely in there. I can feel his soul." Castiel murmured, withdrawing his hand from Sam's chest, "However it's...it feels like his soul is fighting against itself. I managed to put him in a very deep sleep, but I don't know how long that will last." The blue-eyed angel met Dean's gaze, a sad look on his face, "What he endured, Dean...I'm surprised he's even alive right now."<p>

"But what happened to him, Cas? He didn't even remember himself, let alone us. And why's he covered in scars? I thought Hell was supposed to put you back together again." Dean murmured, face in his hands. He sat in a chair next to the couch that they'd laid Sam on. God knew him and Bobby alone wouldn't have been able to carry the sasquatch upstairs.

Castiel grimaced, moving away from Sam, "I think it was his minds way of protecting itself. And as for the scarring...well when you were in Hell, you didn't have your body. Perhaps Sam is so heavily scarred because he had his." The angel put his hands in his pockets, a frown on his face, "There's something you should know, Dean." He said, face grim.

Dean glared, waiting. When Castiel didn't respond, he spoke, "Well, what is it?"

"I don't know how, but Sam seems to have some grace in him. It's not a lot, but I think it's part of the reason why he's holding together so well. It would also explain why his body is fighting against itself right now." Castiel glanced back towards the sleeping man on the couch, pulling a hand out of his pocket to place it on his forehead, "Although it seems like that has ceased now."

"So what, you're saying he's an angel now?" Dean said bitterly.

Castiel shook his head, "Not quite...I'm not sure what he is right now. I'll have to wait for him to wake up before I can do a more extensive search. Anything other than what I'm doing right now could possibly do more harm than good." He paused, narrowing his eyes before he spoke up again, "He should wake soon."

As soon as Castiel spoke, Sam's eyes opened.

"Sammy?!" Dean said, suddenly kneeling by his brother and gripping his arm.

The other slowly turned his gaze to Dean, as if he weren't fully aware of where he was yet.

"Can you hear us?" Castiel said, appearing in Sam's line of sight.

Sam nodded, blinking slowly, "Am...am I out?" He stared around the room, eyes wide, "This isn't real. It can't be real." He suddenly shot up, pushing Dean's arm away from him and pulling his knees up to his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around his legs, "You're not here. I won't believe it. You hear me? I won't believe it."

Dean glanced at Cas, worry in his gaze, "Why is he like this? He seemed fine before!"

Castiel hurriedly placed a hand against Sam's head, trying not to notice when the other flinched violently, "I don't think he knows what's going on. His mind is a mess." The angel began using his grace to search for the small amount that hid in Sam's soul. As soon as he found it, he latched onto it and began trying to coax it out with his own in the hopes that it would help heal some of the damage to Sam's mind.

"What are you doing to him?" Dean very nearly hysterically yelled.

Bobby burst into the living room just then, having heard the commotion, "What the hell is going on in here?"

Dean ignored him, instead focusing on the angel, "Castiel?

Castiel held up his other hand. He was almost done. It was there, in the very dark corners of Sam's mind that he found that speck of grace. He tugged at it, mentally calling to it with his own. It hesitated at first, before finally (albeit reluctantly) flowing out to light the darkness. Sam immediately stopped moving then, all of his incoherent mutterings suddenly silencing.

The angel pulled away, his job done.

"I've...managed to aid his grace in holding back his memories of the cage."

"Thank - "

Castiel shook his head slowly, "But in doing so, I think it may have also erased his memories of his earlier life." The angel held up a finger when Dean tried to speak again, "Let me finish explaining. I'm not sure how much was hidden, but I do know that he will remember anything that happened after he left the cage. He also...may still remember the events of the cage itself."

"So you really didn't do anything useful?" Dean growled, "He still remembers the cage and he still doesn't remember us. Great."

Castiel narrowed his eyes, "I apologize for not being able to do more, Dean. However I would just be glad that your brother escaped the cage as unscathed as he is. The things that he went through..." A visible shudder went down the angel's spine, "Whatever helped him out of there came just in time."

As they spoke, Sam slowly uncurled.

He gazed around the room, eyes locking on to Dean.

Dean noticed the staring and turned to look at Sam. He faintly smiled, trying to reassure the younger.

"Hey there, Sammy."

Sam blinked. He'd been in a dark room...but now he wasn't. It was like it had been some weird, crazy dream. He shook the thought away, feeling a chill go down his spine at the very thought of thinking about what he'd seen. Still, it seemed as though the memories of the cage were distant now. And then he'd gotten out of the cage. And come to the weirdly familiar salvage yard. With the familiar man. Who he'd needed to ask a question.

His eyes widened as he remembered what he'd wanted to ask.

Dean watched as Sam suddenly looked straight into his eyes.

Sam spoke, the words uncertain as they left his mouth.

"Are you Dean?"

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

_**AN:**_ _Hey guys! Another chapter! I'd hoped to have had this one up by Christmas, but you know how that goes. Either way, here it is. Merry-late-Christmas! xD Kudos to **Souless666**, **Air Guitar Pixie**, **Hades Lord of the Dead** and **icedragonfirebird** for reviewing! I tried to look over it, but if you find any mistakes please let me know. Enjoy the chapter! Reviews are love, reviews are life.  
><em>

_**Disclaimer:** The show is still not mine, unfortunately..._

* * *

><p>Before Dean could respond, Castiel was talking.<p>

"What do you remember, Sam?"

Sam's eyes met his, and he narrowed them, "Uhm...not much. I was in a cage, and it was really bright and there was so much screaming and - " He cut himself off and pushed those memories away. He didn't want to regress back to what he'd been earlier, "And then I was in an orchard with some guy named Frank staring at me like I had three heads."

Castiel nodded, "Anything else?"

"He was gonna drive me into town, but I saw the salvage yard, and I had to stop. It just seemed really...familiar, you know?" He paused, gaze landing on Dean, "And then you walked out. I'm pretty sure I passed out after that." He shifted uncomfortably on the couch, as if realizing he was somewhere unfamiliar for the first time, "That's about it."

"How did you know my name?" Dean asked, "Do you remember me?"

Sam shook his head, "I just...in the cage...something kept me going. I forgot everything else but I knew I had to stay strong for Dean. I just don't remember who that is and when I saw you I thought it was you, but if it's not I'm really sorry for the confusion." He knew he was rambling, but talking about this made him uncomfortable. He also hadn't missed the way Dean flinched when he'd said cage.

"Sammy..."

"Hold on Dean." Castiel interrupted him, looking Sam in the eye, "So you're saying that you do not remember anything from before the cage?" Receiving a nod, the angel placed a hand on his chin and straightened, turning his back to the two by the couch, "That would mean..." He trailed off, frowning.

"Would mean what?" Dean questioned, glaring.

Cas turned back to them, still frowning, "Well it appears that Sam will never be able to recover his lost memories without doing serious damage to his state of mind, even with the small amount of grace that he has within him now." Before Dean could even protest, Castiel removed his hand from his chin and held up a finger, "However, with some work we may be able to help him remember things little by little."

"Don't I get a say in all of this?" Sam spoke up for the first time, sitting up straight now and no longer looking so uncomfortable, "Maybe I don't want to know who I was. Maybe I don't want those memories anymore."

Dean looked at his brother, grimacing as he did, "You don't mean that, Sammy."

Without thinking, Sam glared at him and murmured, "It's Sam."

He got wide-eyed stares in response.

"What?" Shaking his head, he sighed, "Never mind. Anyways, it's not that I don't wanna remember, but I don't wanna have to go crazy in order to do it. I'd like to keep myself sane, okay?" He looked at Castiel, "Now, you said there's a way to do this without having me go insane, right?"

The angel nodded, "Yes, but it would be a long process."

Sam leaned back against the cushions, "Well, let's try it, shall we?"

"We can only do it in parts, Sam. It would be unsafe to do it any other way." Castiel sat down on the sofa next to the amnesiac, "Since you've already been through so much today, it would be unwise to try and remember more than one instance of your life. Are you sure you don't want to wait until tomorrow?"

"Do what you have to." Sam responded.

"There's something you should know." Castiel murmured into Sam's ear as he leaned forward and placed his hands on the other's forehead. Dean stood and moved away, pulling his phone out of his pocket and walking into the other room, "What I'm doing is incredibly risky. Even though I'm going to be as gentle as possible, you could still very well lose your mind."

Bobby watched the two of them from the corner he sat in, arms crossed, "You shouldn't do this, Sam. Not if it's not safe."

Sam seemed to ponder this for a moment, a strange look on his face, "Even so...I feel like this is the right thing to do. I feel like, if I were still..you know, _me, _this is what I would choose to do." His eyes met Castiel's, "Does that make sense?"

The angel smiled softly in response, "I think that's what Sam would do as well."

Bobby grunted, a frown on his face, but he stayed otherwise silent.

With that, Castiel gripped Sam's skull lightly with both hands, resting his thumbs on the hunter's forehead. He pulled his grace to his fingertips, letting it flow out of him and into Sam. It seeped into Sam's mind, trying to track down the smidgen of grace that had been left inside of him. He found it, taking up most of the space inside Sam's mind despite the fact that it was such a small amount. He looked past it, attempting to track down the mass of darkness that hid behind the light.

The darkness that held Sam's missing memories.

After a moment, he found it. It sat in the furthest corners, just outside the reaches of the grace's light. Gently, Castiel began to tug at it. He pulled at the corners, as if they were the ragged strings of an old blanket. Eventually, one came loose. He gripped it tightly and tugged, feeling it drag as it broke away from the much larger mass.

It was the memory of what had happened just before Sam fell into the cage.

Feeling victorious, Castiel carefully pulled the rest of it out of the darkness.

That of course, was when Sam began to scream.

* * *

><p>Dean watched as Castiel approached his brother on the couch. Feeling like Sam was safe with the angel, he motioned to Bobby that he was going to go make a phone call, he headed off into the dining room. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he pressed 4 and then the call button before putting it to his ear.<p>

"Hello?"

Smiling, Dean murmured, "Hey Lisa."

"What happened? Are you okay?" She sounded worried.

"No, no everything's fine." He held up a hand, even though she couldn't see the movement, "I just wanted to let you know that - "

"You're not coming back, are you?" Before he could respond, she spoke again, "You've found what you were looking for, then?" Again she cut him off, "It's okay Dean. I understand. Just...just be careful, okay? Don't get yourself hurt."

"I...I won't. Thanks, Lisa. You guys were amazing with me."

"Goodbye, Dean."

"Bye." He hung up, shoving the phone back into his pocket and trying to not to feel the emotions that were welling up in his chest. He gained one thing, but lost another. With a deep frown, he went over to the liquor cabinet and grapped the bottle of whiskey that sat on the shelve. Before he could pour himself a glass, however, screaming echoed out from the living room.

He immediately sprinted back into the room, find Sam writhing around on the floor with Castiel standing above him, eyes wide.

"What the hell did you do?!" Dean shouted over the sound of Sam's screams.

Castiel shook his head, mouth opening and closing as if he didn't know what to say.

Bobby stood up from where he'd been sitting and approached the two, "Cas was doin' his thing and then all of a sudden Sam started screaming." The ex-hunter gestured towards where the angel was standing, holding his hands in front of him now like they'd been burned, "Sam dropped to the ground and Cas pulled away lookin' like he'd been shocked or something."

"Cas...what happened in there?" Dean said, more gentle this time.

The angel looked up, slowly meeting Dean's gaze, "I...I found his memories. I tried to - to pull one loose and it just - " Castiel swallowed, looking terrified. That look alone was enough to nearly make Dean shit himself, "They all came tumbling out. I don't think I will be able to retrieve any of them without his whole mind breaking down."

"So what the hell do we do now?!"

A hand was placed on Dean's shoulder, "Calm down. You ain't gonna do no good freaking out like that." Bobby stated, eyes narrowed, but determined, "Now, Cas, could you patch him up the way you did before?"

The angel slowly shook his head, "The cage...there was so much...and the grace that was in him has all but disappeared into the recesses of his mind again. I would...it would break him completely." He flexed his hands, the tingling sensation of Sam breaking under his grace still making his nerves go haywire, "I don't - there's nothing I can do, Dean."

Dean ignored him and knelt at Sam's side, "Sammy?" He murmured, placing his hands on Sam's shoulder's as the bigger man squirmed and writhed on the ground. He wasn't screaming anymore, but instead was wimpering quietly to himself, "C'mon, man. You can do this. You can get past this, right?"

His voice seemed to strike a chord within Sam, for the hunter immediately stilled.

"You hearin' me, Sammy?" Dean whispered, hopeful, "Come back to us."

Sam seemed to uncurl from the ball that he'd rolled himself into, tears streaming freely from his eyes and down his cheeks. His eyes were glazed over, but more focused than Dean expected them to be. Especially now. Those glassy, hazel eyes met Dean's for a moment, and it was like Sam was just _there_. Like he'd returned to himself.

"Sammy?"

"Not real..." The man muttered, and Sam was gone again, turning away from Dean and squeezing his eyes shut.

"It's me, Sam. I promise I'm real." Dean said, feeling a sudden wave of hopelessness wash over him. God, what had that bastard archangel done to his brother to break him so badly?

Sam's eyes opened slowly, drifting back to meet Dean's, "Dean...?"

"Yeah, Sammy. It's me. I'm here." Dean said, pulling Sam close and resisting the urge to cry like a baby. He was a man, and real men didn't cry.

The body in his arms suddenly fell still, and before Dean could say anything, Castiel spoke up.

"Relax, he is only asleep." The angel murmured, helping Dean move Sam back to the couch, "But how he managed to find himself again after all of that...it's beyond me. I didn't think even the strongest human could come back from what he'd been through."

"Is he alright now?" Dean murmured, brushing the hair from his brother's face gently. Wishing that for a moment things could go back to the way they were before any of this had happened. Before Lucifer, and the apocalypse. Back to a time where they were just two brother's, searching for their lost father.

Castiel nodded, "I think so, though I am reluctant to traverse his mind again to check for sure. I don't want to damage him any further."

Bobby stood suddenly, "Well, I think I'll go get some dinner started."

"It is two in the morning." Castiel commented, a confused look on his face.

"And I'm pretty sure Dean hasn't eaten all day. So therefore, dinner. C'mon angel, you can lend me a hand." In reality, Bobby just wanted to give Dean a moment alone with his brother. He knew how close the two really were, even if they pretended not to be. And while the ex-hunter could give them all the support in the world, it was really just those two who carried each other through everything.

Castiel seemed to understand this, and silently followed Bobby into the kitchen.

Left to his own devices, Dean settled for sitting on the floor by the couch, head pressed against the armrest, eyes closed. He would watch over Sammy as he slept. And when his brother woke, he'd watch him then too. Because he was a big brother, and big brother's looked out for their younger siblings.

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

_**AN: **Hey guys *peaks out from behind corner* Uh...how's it going? Yeah, kind of a long wait for this one. I got a severe case of writer's block. I couldn't figure out where to take this next, and it was really really bad. I almost gave up on this. But I forced myself to sit down the other day and work on this some more. I like what I did with it, and what I plan on doing. I just need to know if you all are still interested. I'm going to continue posting anyways, because I want to finish this. I'm determined now. _

_As always, a shout out to all who've fav'd and followed so far! And special thanks to Air Guitar Pixie, Hades Lord of the Dead and icedragonfirebird for reviewing! You guys are amazing. The continued support is awesome, it really is. I hope you all enjoy this one! _

_**Disclaimer:** As of January 20th, 2015 I still do not own Supernatural. One day perhaps..._

_**Warnings:** Brief use of harsh language near the end._

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><p><em>"There's a light in the bedroom<em>  
><em>But it's dark<em>  
><em>Scattered around on the floor are<em>  
><em>All my souls." -Bastille, Get Home<br>_

Dean's eyes blinked open slowly, his neck cracking as he looked up to survey the room. He'd obviously fallen asleep, though for how long he wasn't sure. He remembered what had happened earlier and his gaze flew to Sam, entire body creaking as he hastily turned himself around.

His brother was still asleep, though his face was scrunched up as if he were in pain.

Sighing in relief, Dean turned when he heard someone walk into the room.

"Dean. We have made macaroni and cheese." Castiel said with an accomplished smile.

Raising an eyebrow, the hunter grumbled, "You did what now?"

"We made food, and your gonna get off your ass and come eat." Bobby poked his head into the room, narrowing his eyes at Dean before moving back into the kitchen.

Letting out a breath, Dean glanced back towards Sam. The younger lay unmoving, breathing evenly. Deciding that it would be okay to go and eat (but he would hurry), Dean stood and followed Cas into the kitchen.

He didn't notice as he left the room, that Sam had started to move.

* * *

><p>He opened his eyes to darkness. Nothing surrounded him. For all he could tell there wasn't even a floor beneath his feet. But not far away he could hear someone humming an unfamiliar tune. It was weird as he began to walk because he couldn't tell if he was even walking on anything, but he knew he was moving towards the sound.<p>

What Sam saw next confused him.

There was a couch, somehow illuminated in the darkness.

And on the couch laid himself. Well, he imagined it was what he looked like before any of the Hell things had happened to him. He appeared to be sleeping, eyes closed and breathing deeply. But he wasn't alone on the couch. Someone sat next to him. That someone looked up, and put a finger to their lips, silently shushing Sam.

Though Sam was surprised to see himself telling him to be quiet.

"Who are you?" Sam whispered.

The other him frowned as the Sam on the couch twitched in his sleep. Quietly, the other hummed a few more lines of the song that Sam still couldn't recognize. Other Sam ran his hands through sleeping Sam's hair, before turning his hazel eyes back to the Sam that was standing up.

"I am you, obviously."

Other Sam turned his gaze back to the sleeping figure on the couch, as if to make sure that he was fully asleep, before he stood up. He wore a suit of white, along with a pair of gleaming white dress shoes. His hair was neatly gelled into place. When he stood, he stood straight and proud, as if he were someone of high power.

Sam shook his head, "But how can you be me? I'm here. And what's with him?" He gestured towards the Sam that slept on the couch, "Why is he asleep?"

"I am a part of you, Sam. Just as he is." The other Sam placed his hands into his pockets, nodding his head towards the boy on the couch, "He contains your memories. The ones from before Hell." Hazel eyes met Sam's, "You are what remains of us after the cage. You are what managed to pull to the forefront of our mind after what we endured."

"What does that make you?" Sam questioned, eyes narrowed.

"I am the thing holding all of this in place." Though the sentence was spoken in an even tone, other Sam still managed to look extremely sad when he said it, "I am what's left of Lucifer's grace inside of you. Ironically enough, it's the only thing that is allowing you to continue on the way you are." Other Sam sat back down by sleeping Sam, gently shushing him as the slumbering figure stirred slightly.

"How come Cas didn't mention that then? When he was trying to fix me?"

Other Sam looked back towards Sam, frowning, "I imagine it's because the amount of grace left over is so small it's almost impossible to discern it's owner. I am but a tiny fraction of the full power that Lucifer has." Other Sam glanced back at the sleeping boy, "And yet here I am, somehow keeping you together."

"Why? Why would Lucifer leave part of his grace in me, if he knew it would help me escape from his cage?" Sam asked, suddenly noticing that another chair had appeared in the space that the couch occupied. It was oddly illuminated as well, as if there were a spotlight on it, "And where are we?" He added as an afterthought.

"His grace didn't help us escape, Sam. I don't know how we got out. And as for the grace that was left over, Lucifer didn't leave it intentionally. When an angel takes a vessel, they leave a small, microscopic amount in their host. Not enough to do anything with, but it's still there. It still exists." Other Sam chuckled as he heard Sam's last question, "Haven't you noticed yet? We are inside our mind. This is our head, Sam."

Sam glanced around at his surroundings. This was his head? "Why is it so dark?"

"You ask a lot of questions, Samuel." Other Sam said, but answered Sam's question nonetheless, "It's dark because there's nothing to light it up. You have no memories. No self. Even your own soul is being contained within this version of you." The other gestured towards the sleeping Sam, "He is you, without your memories of the cage. And that is why he must sleep, otherwise you would be a catatonic drooling mess."

"So I can't...I can't ever remember anything? I'm stuck like this?"

Other Sam shook his head, "I never said that. Since we are all here, we could try to wake him. I make no guarantees about the outcome, and if he wakes I may not be able to put him back to sleep. However, because I am here, I could control how fast the memories come back. It may be enough to keep you sane."

Sam looked towards the sleeping version of himself, "How do I know I can trust you? You're part of Lucifer."

"I'm already inside you Sam. I could have woken him up a long time ago and let you go crazy, but I haven't. There's no way for me to go back to Lucifer. I'm fully a part of you now, which is why I took this form. We are one and the same. It would be in my best interest for you to be whole once more." Other Sam gave a light shrug, "Besides, if we fix you, it might keep that bastard angel Castiel out of your head."

"You don't like Cas? Why?"

Other Sam shook his head, chuckling quietly, "That's a different story for another time. Let's just leave it at he Molotov'd my brother with holy fire. Anyways, shall we begin?"

Sam pondered it for a moment. Really, what did he have to lose?

"Let's do it." Sam said, determination heavy in his voice.

Other Sam smiled, and gently shook sleeping Sam on the shoulder.

And all Sam saw was darkness.

* * *

><p>Dean stood in the kitchen, a bowl in his hand.<p>

He was currently marveling at the fact that Cas had managed to cook something, and not completely gack it up.

"How is it?" Castiel asked, smiling slightly.

Dean glanced at the angel, taking another bite, "It's...okay."

"C'mon Dean, give the angel some credit. He did manage to make this almost by himself." Bobby commented as he set a beer down on the table next to Dean, "Anyways, how's Sam doing? He still asleep?" The older hunter asked, taking a sip of his beer and leaning against one of the various counters in the room.

"Yeah...I just...I hope he's gonna be okay."

It was just then that Castiel poked his head back into the kitchen, a worried look on his face.

"Sam is gone."

Dean immediately threw his bowl down onto the table, not caring that it had tipped over and that the food had spilled everywhere. He ignored Bobby's curses as he sprinted from the kitchen and into the living room, dread filling his stomach as he realized that Cas was right. Sam was no longer lying on the couch. He instantly dashed up the stairs, wondering if Sam had gone to lay down on a bed.

"Sammy?!" He shouted as he threw open every single door upstairs.

Empty. Nothing. Sam was gone.

"He's not in the yard, either." Castiel commented as he appeared next to Dean.

"Did anyone see him go anywhere? Any of your neighbors, Bobby?"

Bobby shook his head, "It's four in the morning, no one's gonna be up right now."

"But we were only in the kitchen for what, half an hour? How far could he have gotten?"

Castiel frowned, "That is, if he actually left of his own free will. We don't know if he was taken somewhere or not."

Dean shook his head, "We woulda known of something entered the house. Bobby has this place booby trapped like it's the fucking white house." The hunter cursed, hurriedly pacing back and forth in front of the stairs, "And it's not like a human woulda taken him, nobody but us knew he was back. For all anyone else knows, Sam died in Stull Cemetery."

"Alright, well here's what we're gonna do. Cas, can you go north? See if anyone has seen him up there?" Bobby questioned, the angel nodded and disappeared, "I'll go out west, see if anyone's heard anything. I'll get in touch with a few of my friends in law enforcement, see if anyone's called anything in. Dean, you go west, alright?"

Dean threw his arms out in exasperation, "How the fuck could he have left without us noticing?"

Bobby sighed, "We'll find him, son. Just give it some time."

Dean growled, but grabbed his keys and stormed out of the house.

He got into the impala, slamming the door behind him and speeding off into the night.

_'Dammit, Sammy? Where'd you go?'_

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

**_AN: _**_Hey guys! Guess who's updating on time?! And I already have part of the next chapter written. Also! The next chapter will probably be the last. Sudden, I know, but I really kind of like where I went with it. Thanks to icedragonfirebird for reviewing on the last one! And also thanks to those who favorited/followed. I hope y'all enjoy._

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Supernatural. 'nuff said._

_**Warnings:** Some more harsh language in this one._

* * *

><p>It had been five days. Five fucking days since Sam had disappeared. And goddammit if Dean had slept any of them because his fucking brother was missing and probably a little crazy. Bobby hadn't heard anything, no cops had received any reports. Castiel had come up with nothing. Hell, Dean went as far as fucking Chicago and didn't find a single thing.<p>

He was parked on the side of the interstate, just outside of Sioux Falls, trying to rein his anger in before he got pulled over for doing thirty over the speed limit. It wouldn't do him any good to get a ticket right now, and knowing his luck he'd probably get pulled over by a cop who recognized his face or something.

The ringing of his phone made him jump.

Cursing, Dean pulled it from his pocket, knowing who it was without reading the number.

"Find anything, yet?"

Bobby sighed over the phone, "Not exactly."

"Well, what did you hear?" Dean snapped, immediately feeling guilty for it, "Sorry, Bobby. It's just..."

"I know." Bobby said, "It's alright. Anyways, Cas thinks he might have sensed something down south. In Kansas."

"What do you mean sensed something?"

"Well he's not sure about it, but he thinks Sam might be in Lawrence." Bobby's voice faded for a second, like he had a hand over the speaker. There was talking, but Dean couldn't make out any of it. Bobby sounded like he was arguing with someone, and Dean was about to start yelling into the phone before the older hunter came back on, "Hold on, he wants to explain it to you."

Dean sighed, but focused as Castiel spoke up.

"Hello Dean."

"Hey, Cas. What's this about Lawrence?"

There was silence. Dean was about to say something when the angel responded, "I'm...not sure how to put this. Don't be alarmed, but I may have sensed the grace that was inside Sam for a moment. It showed up for a brief second in Lawrence. Just...something's different about it, Dean."

The hunter narrowed his eyes, "Different how?"

"Well...it was Lucifer's." Castiel said, and spoke again before Dean could interrupt, "It wasn't strong, and I don't think that he's actually come out of the cage, but I wouldn't be too careful." The angel warned, "I would go down ahead to check it out myself, but Bobby is insisting that I ride with him. He doesn't wish to be left behind, as he put it. Though I don't see how - "

Castiel was cut off as Bobby took the phone back.

"What the hell does he mean it's Lucifer?!" Dean shouted, slamming a hand against the steering wheel.

"I dunno, son. But you'd better haul ass over there. If Sam is there, and Lucifer's around..."

"I know. I'm only about five hours out. Four if I get started now. Talk to you later, Bobby."

Dean threw the phone down onto the passengers seat and started the impala, muttering every curse word that he knew as he threw the car into reverse. Turned around, he switched to drive and sped off, not really giving a damn about speeding tickets now.

* * *

><p>When Sam came to, he was terrified to find that he was still in the darkness. Still in the same chair that he'd sat down in, even. Other Sam sat on the couch, arms crossed and leaning back. His eyes were closed. The Sam that had been sleeping was standing by the side of the couch, his back to the both of them.<p>

Sam stood on uncertain feet, reaching out a hand towards the standing Sam.

"I wouldn't touch him if I were you." Other Sam spoke up, suddenly standing next to Sam.

"Why? What happened? I mean, we're still alive, right?"

Other Sam shrugged, "Honestly, I'm not sure. After I managed to wake him up completely, he went and stood over there. Been there since. Our mind isn't very stable right now, and we need to be extremely careful with how we approach him. He might reject us and we might lose ourself forever."

"So what do we do?" Sam asked, edging way from the figure.

"Well...there are two options." Other Sam stepped forward to stand next to Sam, arms crossed and eying the third Sam warily, "We can touch him, see if that wakes him up. Touching him, however, would probably cause you two to collide and absorb one another." Sighing, Other Sam turned to face Sam, "Or, we can leave it like this. You can go back to being the awkward amnesiac with the over protective brother."

Sam narrowed his eyes, "Well...there's really only one choice, isn't there?"

Other Sam nodded in agreement.

Cautiously stepping forward, Sam murmured, "Here goes nothing. On three, okay?" Receiving a nod, Sam reached out a hand.

"One...

Two...

Three!"

* * *

><p>Dean sped through the entrance of Stull Cemetery, gravel spitting out from his tires as he drove. He knew exactly where to find Sam (or at least he hoped he did). It was the same spot where they'd opened the cage the second time, in order to throw the Devil back into his cell. It was the very same spot that Dean had thought he'd lost Sam for good. And there was no way in Hell that Dean was letting Sam go without a fight.<p>

He saw him as he pulled up and parked.

Sam knelt in the middle of a cluster of gravestones. Right where the cage had been opened up. His arms were outstretched like he was waiting for the sky to rain down on him. From what Dean could tell, his eyes were closed. However, as soon as the hunter slammed the door shut on the impala, Sam's gaze flew over to him.

"Dean." His voice sounded hoarse, like he'd been crying.

And Dean swore that if he looked close enough, he could see tear tracks on Sam's cheeks.

"Sammy?" Dean said as he approached the kneeling figure slowly, "What the hell are you doing all the way out here?"

Sam blinked slowly, as if he were taking a long time to process what Dean had said.

"It hurts, Dean." There were tears running down Sam's face again. He dropped his arms and turned his body towards his brother.

"What hurts, Sam?"

Said hunter shook his head, hair falling into his face, "Everything. It feels like - like I'm being ripped apart."

Not even caring anymore, Dean knelt in the dirt by his brother, gripping his shoulders and staring into his eyes. He could see the shimmer of more tears in Sam's eyes, "Don't worry, Sammy. I'm here now." Ignoring how chick flick-y it felt, Dean pulled Sam into his arms, feeling the other go limp as he did, "Just fight it. You can do it. You're strong, Sam. Stronger than anyone I know."

"There's so much..." Sam paused, pushing away from Dean and making a pained face, like it hurt him to try and think about what he was going to say, "There's so much light. It's too bright. I can't - I can't - " He suddenly looked directly into Dean's eyes, his own hazel ones pained, but focused, "I don't know if I can do this, Dean."

The older hunter shook his head, "I know you can do it, Sam. You've got to fight, and you've got to be strong." Sam looked like he was about to protest again, so Dean spoke up once more, "Cas will be here soon, and then he can help you. But until then you've gotta hang on, okay? Just hang in there, Sammy."

Sam suddenly listed forwards, and Dean just barely managed to catch him in his arms.

"Sam?!" He shouted, but his brother only whimpered.

Furious, Dean turned his face towards the sky, "Cas! Get your feathery ass over here, now! Bring Bobby with you, or something, if he doesn't want to be left behind!"

In a blink Castiel and Bobby stood in front of Dean.

"I see you found him."

"What the hell's wrong with him, Cas?" Dean asked, trying not to sound hysterical.

Sam suddenly jerked in Dean's arms, crying out and shoving himself away from the other.

"I'm - I'm okay." Sam murmured, gripping his head, "I just...I need a second. It's all kind of - jumbled."

"Like hell you're okay!" Dean growled, "You freaking walked five days straight to get here." It hit Dean then that Sam had, in fact, walked for five days straight to get here. That meant he was probably dehydrated, not to mention he'd gone out without shoes, so his feet were probably blistered as hell, "Cas, is he okay? Does he need to be healed?"

Sam shook his head, "I'm okay. I'm okay." He removed a hand from his head to wave it at Cas, "The um - the grace. It healed me. I'm good now."

"You mean Lucifer's grace?" Dean stated, still unconvinced that Sam was okay.

Hazel eyes met Dean's green ones, "Well it used to be part of Lucifer, but it got left behind when we separated. It's mine now. Well, not mine, but it can't go back to him so it's kind of stuck with me, so technically it's - "

"I get it, Sam." He glanced over Sam worriedly, but didn't see anything noticeably wrong with him, "Now, you want to explain why the hell you walked all the way to freaking Kansas to kneel in some field? More importantly, what were you thinking leaving without mentioning anything to me? Or Cas? Or Bobby? Hell, you could've left a note or something."

Giving Dean his trademark bitch face, Sam grimaced, and removed his other hand from his head, looking like he was expected the pain to come back at any second, "I'm not sure how I got out here. All I remember is going to sleep on the couch and then, well, I woke up here, in the field, sitting like how you found me."

"And why were you sitting like that?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sam looked up to meet Dean's gaze, his eyes looking slightly haunted.

"I met God."

**TBC**


End file.
